


Broken Wings

by dreamsquirrel



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Gen, M/M, Platonic Male/Male Relationships, Platonic Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-18
Updated: 2014-10-18
Packaged: 2018-02-21 14:23:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2471393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamsquirrel/pseuds/dreamsquirrel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nishinoya Yuu was never one to fall back into a daydream. Why spend all your days looking back on Memory Lane when the road to the future was right in front of you? However, it wasn’t like the libero necessarily ignored his past.</p><p>He just never chose to dwell upon it.</p><p>Every once in a while though, Nishinoya found his eyes drifting off into space –staring at who knows what- and his mind’s eye played a quiet movie in his head. He never liked this movie, since it always reminded him of that pain that he felt in his chest; like some monster had gripped onto his heart and was trying to rip it out of him and swallow it whole. Unfortunately, that morning was one of those times. </p><p>A short drabble requested by the-rolling-libero; the prompt was "broken wings".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken Wings

**Author's Note:**

> Hello friends! So on my rp blog on tumblr, I received a number of drabble requests! For this one, the prompt given was "broken wings", so I couldn't help but think of when Asahi quit the team. I feel a little bad since it wasn't all that ship-oriented, but I think that I nailed Asahi and Noya's relationship decently, if that counts. uwu
> 
> Anyway, happy reading! :)

“Because people don’t have wings, we look for ways to fly.”

 -Haikyuu!! 

* * *

 

 

Nishinoya Yuu was never one to fall back into a daydream. Why spend all your days looking back on Memory Lane when the road to the future was right in front of you? However, it wasn’t like the libero necessarily ignored his past.

He just never chose to dwell upon it.

Every once in a while though, Nishinoya found his eyes drifting off into space –staring at who knows what- and his mind’s eye played a quiet movie in his head. He never liked this movie, since it always reminded him of that pain that he felt in his chest; like some monster had gripped onto his heart and was trying to rip it out of him and swallow it whole. Unfortunately, that morning was one of those times. He was nestled into one of the seats on the team’s bus which was headed right toward the tournament. Yet the libero could help but think about _that_ day.

_“Damnit!” he shouted, smashing the wooden length of a broom against the rack, his chest feeling heavy. Small waves of anger tingled throughout his limbs, but he was much more angry at himself more than anyone. His fingers curled and uncurled, fist clenching and unclenching in agitation. “I couldn’t follow on any of the blocks!”_

Nishinoya closed his eyes and clenched his teeth, the darkness behind his eyelids almost reminding him of the darkness of that damned closet. The movie had begun to play again, and he could only think about that devastating loss against Datekou.

_“Why aren’t you berating me? We lost because of me!”_

_Asahi’s voice rose up behind him like a frustrated tidal wave, crashing on Nishinoya’s back and dragging the libero’s attention back to him. The force was so strong that the libero whirled around to face him. He kept his eyes locked on those of the ace, and all he could see was hurt; the shattering of the glass heart._

_The whole room was full of broken hearts to be frank. Everyone’s expressions were dark and defeated, even Sugawara’s bright expression was dank with pain. Daichi’s voice had boomed, but it wasn’t strong enough to stop them. Even his effort to break the shouting between Nishinoya and Asahi was weak, that weakness like a contagion spreading through the room, seeping in the cracks of the ace’s broken spirit._

_“Toss to me all you want, I’ll never score.” The words left his mouth softly, a crushed mumble at the most. Yet, it was enough to make the libero snap. How could someone so strong and so powerful give up like this? Nishinoya had admired Asahi’s skills, his large build and his overall talent to score, and it smashed his heart to hear him belittle himself so much. The next thing he knew, he had fistfuls of the taller male’s shirt, and it was almost as if no one else was in the room. And if no one else was there to watch, he could scream as much as he wanted, right?_

_As he roared at the ace, he shook him and pushed at him, his rage being unattainable. He heard a snap once, but he didn’t even care anymore. As the libero, the “Guardian Deity”, it was his job to keep the ball up in the air, but a god’s touch could only reach so far. He wasn’t the one to score, that was supposed to be Asahi. He was the one to clear the path, but Asahi was supposed to take it. Even if he didn’t score, he was supposed to take that path. What was the point of all of that work, then, if the one he worked so hard for returned the other way?_

_“I won’t stand for you giving up so selfishly!” Nishinoya finished. The words hung in the room like barbells that were much too heavy; and it seemed like the ace just couldn’t hold it up anymore. Without another word, Asahi escorted himself out of the supply room, leaving Nishinoya alone in the shadows, eyes locked with the broken broom handle. Something so sturdy and solid like a bone, those kinds of things could snap too, huh? The libero didn’t move, he didn’t want to face that reality; Asahi was no longer his rock, but just a piece of broken glass._

_As useless as a broken wing._

_No, he couldn’t give up on Asahi just yet, he couldn’t let his anger fuel that doubt. He had to be the rock for him, he had to get their ace back on the court!_

Nishinoya leaned back in the seat, remembering how Asahi didn’t show up to practices anymore after that. He remembered how no matter how many people were in the gym after that day, there was still a shred of loneliness nestled deep in Nishinoya’s chest. That shred swelled and swelled, like some sort of black ivy curling and clenching on his heart and soon enough, that darkness became blinding. The court didn’t shine, the net wasn’t a brilliant white color anymore. Everything about the gym had become as gray as that afternoon in the supply room, and he didn’t want to look at it anymore.

But then, the sun rose from the east.

It truly was some kind of miracle, he thought, that Hinata could breathe life back into the team again, like a garden deprived of light was suddenly thrust into a wild blaze. The redhead’s ambition was not the fire, but the spark that created the new flames in the team’s hearts; Nishinoya couldn’t help but grin as he remembered how Asahi had been sucked into the heat as well.

That powerful cry for Sugawara’s toss… It was a roar that shook Nishinoya’s world, and when that spike smashed through Tsukishima, Kageyama, and Tanaka, it smashed through all of that hatred for the court; all of that hatred for himself for letting Asahi fall so far. The ace had risen, and so did he.

 “Hey,” mumbled a voice from his right, and the libero turned his head to meet the eyes of Asahi, whom of which had been sitting right beside him for the whole ride. “You’re pretty quiet. Is there something wrong?”

“No,” Nishinoya responded, a genuine smile spreading across his face. “It’s nothing. I was just thinking about something.” The ace made a concerned kind of expression, his eyes shining in some kind of hurt, like he wasn’t dependable or something. _You’re way too easy to read sometimes,_ he thought before nudging at Asahi’s arm. “You’re just amazing, you know?”

The ace’s eyebrows jumped up at that, his eyes widening at the compliment. “That was pretty sudden,” he commented, earning a short laugh from Nishinoya.

“It’s true though, you’re incredible!” the shorter male insisted, his voice as warm as his smile, “You’re just way too amazing for me. Let’s kick some ass in today’s game today, got it?”

As the bus piled out in front of the arena, Nishinoya’s eyes wandered up to watch the back of Asahi’s head. No longer was it lowered in anguish, nor did his shoulders sag in self-loating. No, today it was held high, ready to face the world lying ahead of them.

And for a moment, the libero swore that he saw the most powerful set of wings on Asahi's back.


End file.
